Parallel Insanity
by S. Sgriobhadaireachd
Summary: Jazz returns!...just not quite the way anyone expected him to. DISCONTINUED.


"_First sign of madness, talking to your own head." _-**Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix**

* * *

"_Do ya want a piece of meh?!"_

"_No, I want _two!_"_

The sound of shrieking metal and anguished screaming woke the Prime from his recharge. The large blue and red frame jerked violently on the berth as he suddenly onlined, weapons flaring to life and searching for the threat that had awoken him.

_Megatron, he's attacking-!_

_The Allspark!_

_JAZZ!_

There was no noise from the darkness of his room other than the low humming of his canons, and after a long moment of silence, his CPU managed to play catch up and realized that it was a bad recall that had awoken him. Megatron wasn't here, and neither was Jazz. He was safe.

With a gusty sigh, he deactivated his battle protocols and put his weapons away, transforming his canons back into servos. They came up to rub tiredly at his optics, one of the new habits he had begun to pick up from the NEST soldiers on base.

This hadn't been the first night Optimus Prime had a recall of the death of Jazz; several times within the last few orns, Optimus had found himself faced again and again with the death of his first lieutenant and invaluable friend in recharge. Though he had seen their medical officer, Ratchet, several times to try and find a way to counter the disturbing recalls, nothing either of them did calmed the nightmare. It punched easily through any software Ratchet wrote to stop it and no defrags, no matter how thorough, got rid of it.

Only Ironhide and Ratchet knew about the recalls. There was no sense in worrying Bumblebee or any of the humans about it; they all struggled in their own way with the aftermath of Mission City and Megatron's attack and they didn't need to be burdened with his problems too. They needed him to be strong, someone to look to.

He considered for a short moment comming Ratchet to tell him of the recall, but decided against it after some thought. The medical officer was likely in the same deep recharge Optimus had been in before the recall awoke him and with as little recharge as Ratchet allowed himself, the medic needed every bit he could get.

No, he could handle this. Optimus dimmed his optics and laid himself back out on the berth, relaxing his frame. He would alert Ratchet when he saw him later.

Turning to the other source of strength he had, Optimus sought the ever-constant presence of the Matrix of Leadership inside of him. It was easy enough to find; it was always there, a warm pulsing in his processor and spark, whispering to him endlessly. One of Cybertron's oldest and most sacred relics, it was the source of all wisdom and leadership of Cybertron's Primes and those who aided them. It had been given to him when he had ascended to the Primeship on Cybertron vorns ago, and any Prime who rightfully held it could access that wisdom and guidance.

Optimus needed that wisdom and guidance now, during this dark time. Megatron had finally been defeated after so many had been lost, but at such a high cost to them. The Allspark had been extinguished stopping him and Jazz, one of his oldest friends and confidants, was gone. It was a strange time of rejoicing and mourning among the Autobots.

_What will become of us, now that the Allspark is gone_? He asked the Matrix, not thinking the words so much as showing the golden relic his emotions and all of the confusion that came with it. What was Primus' plan for them, now that it was gone? Why had He taken Jazz from them?

The Matrix did not do anything for a long moment, allowing the Prime to give it his emotions and process them. But after that moment, Optimus felt it pulse in his chassis, next to his spark. A powerful calm settled over him and words as distinct as if someone were next to his audio receptors came into his processor.

_My ways are not your ways. Be at peace. All will be well, Optimus Prime._

And then the Matrix withdrew, its presence not as powerful as before but still nearby and still calming to his mourning spark, leaving the Prime to think over those words.

_Be at peace...all will be well_. He had the impression that this was Primus' gentle but firm way of telling him to stop worrying about things he couldn't fix or control.

Easier said than done. Jazz was always better about going with the flow of things and letting go of things he couldn't control. Optimus tended to brood on them longer than was healthy or necessary. The silver mech had been crucial in helping him get over times like these, giving him a metaphorical "kick-in-the-aft" and dragging him out for some mandatory fun.

He sighed heavily into the darkness, spark clenching at the thought of those memories. Jazz wasn't there to help him, and he wouldn't ever be again.

_Oh Jazz, why did you have to leave us? We need you here._

* * *

If anyone could be called insane, it was Frenzy. The symbiote never shut up (granted, it was partially due to the glitch in his processor) and he moved with a manic energy that made Barricade tired just looking at him. He had long since learned to cope with the nonstop chatter by tuning it out and letting Frenzy get out and run the energy off when he had the chance.

Barricade, on the other hand, was not. Insane and Barricade belonged in totally separate spheres, never to touch. The warrior mech was known for his logic and deadly talent in the field, something that was critical in landing him in Megatron's high command. If someone had called him insane back when he was in the army on Cybertron, _they_ would have been the ones to be called insane.

Except now, Barricade wasn't so sure about his state of mind.

At first, when he had heard the voice in his processor, he had dismissed it as a bad recall or a malfunction in his software, especially when it told him who it supposedly was. But when twenty-three self-evaluations proved that Barricade's software was all in order, it left the mech with the question of why he had a mysterious voice in his head, one that definitely wasn't his.

He had heard about an Autobot gunner once back on Cybertron who never shut up. The gunner was a crack shot and one of the best the Autobots had in their army, but the mech never could seem to stop running his vocalizer according to the Decepticon rumor mill. Barricade had never personally met the mech, but if he had, he had an idea he would sound something like the voice in his processor.

_...and Primus above, Ah am so _bored_! Do ya ever do anythin' interestin' or do ya'll just sit on yer afts and think about how badly ya messed up at Mission City an' the Allspark? Ah know it was borin' with Prime and the others sometimes 'cause we just traveled around in the _Xanthium_ a lot lookin' fer the Allspark and there wasn't much ta do out in space, but this is even worse than just countin' rivets in the hull! Ah'd be willin' ta do Prowl's paperwork right now, Ah'm so bored! Barricade, are ya even listenin' ta meh?_

Barricade ground his dental plates, trying very hard not to lose control of his temper and crush something. Yes, Frenzy didn't shut up but at least Barricade could block out the audio feed. This voice, he couldn't block out.

He had to listen to Every_. Single. Word._

_Ah think ya are ignorin' meh. Ya don't wanna admit it, but Ah can tell! Why would ya ignore meh? Ah'm so much fun ta talk to and there's nothin' fun goin' on up here in yer processor; it's about as bornin' as Prowl's! Or maybe not, Ah don't know for sure. Never been in his processor like this and Ah don't know if Ah'd want ta. C'mon mech, don't leave meh hangin' here…!_

He studiously ignored the voice and instead tried to concentrate on where he was going next. Being hunted by aliens and Autobots and left with no Decepticon allies put Barricade in a terrible position, especially on an unfamiliar mudball, but he made do with it what he could. A worrying lack of available energon and aid from his two symbiotes made it even harder.

They were still with him, locked into his frame where they usually were when not deployed. But Frenzy had suffered severe processor damage from the aliens in Mission City and Scorponok was out of commission thanks to his injuries from the alien weaponry they had attacked him with. Barricade's medical experience went as far as field triage and he had patched up the frames as best as he could, but Frenzy had severe processor damage and Scorponok was in pieces. He had no way to help either of them, so he simply worked on keeping them alive through their symbiote bond.

_Oh, the silent game, huh? Ah love this game; it's so much fun tah play! Did Ah ever tell ya about the one time that Wheeljack decided ta try out a new bomb compound? Prime told him no, it wasn't a good idea, but good ol' Jackie decided he'd just try it once an' of course it had ta be durin' shift change…_

_Primus, do you _ever_ shut up?!_ Barricade finally snarled, his temper shot. He immediately regretted his outburst, even if it was only mental. The voice snickered at its success.

_Not really. Do ya want me ta?_

"Yes." He replied tersely, not caring he was speaking out loud. The only ones around were small organic vermin whose processing power wasn't any greater than a computer chip and even if any other higher-processor vermin was around, he didn't care.

_Ha!_

"_Ha_?" That didn't sound good.

_One thing ya should learn about meh, mech, is that Ah don't 'shut up'. So _there_._ It sounded way too smug and it made him even angrier.

Primus above, what had he done to deserve this?

"..._I hate you_." He hissed.

_Good thing Ah hate ya too; it's nice tah know we have somethin' in common. Now, are ya gonna go find Ratch and the Prime and fix this or am Ah stuck with ya permanently?_ For all its bravado, the voice didn't sound too excited about that prospect. There was another thing they had in common, not that Barricade would ever admit it.

"I am not going to the Autobot medic or the Autobots, no matter what you may say or even if it would get rid of you." He informed the voice, cold satisfaction creeping into his tone as he began to transform down into his alt mode. Yes, he may have an annoying voice in his head but that voice couldn't make him do anything he didn't want to do. One of the perks of actually _having _a frame.

_So_ there, he told the voice as he kicked his engine over and took off over the organic terrain, not trying to keep his smugness out of the words.

_Oh, really?_ The voice's tone made Barricade wary all of a sudden. It sounded positively devious, like when Frenzy got a stupid idea that was bound to end up with someone trying to kill them. _Ah got ma ways, mech. Do ya really wanna force ma hand? Ah will make your life miserable._

"I cannot be any more miserable than I am at this moment. I'll take my chances." He told the voice, forcing the wariness away. For Primus' sake, it was a _voice_ in his processor and a dead mech's voice if it was telling the truth about who it was. He was _fine_. He didn't need to worry.

_Ya may live to regret that one, Caders. The humans have a sayin' about how things can always get worse. _

"Don't call me that." He snapped, revving his engine angrily.

_Aw, ya don't like it? Ah think it fits._

"Shut up, Jazz."


End file.
